


home life

by stevesamtrash (whisperedwords)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Feelings, First Kiss, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Gen, M/M, Post-Canon, Roommates, STEVE AND SAM ARE IDIOTS AND IN LOVE AND THATS ALL U NEED TO KNOW TBH, Slow Dancing, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 17:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7062778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperedwords/pseuds/stevesamtrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Steve move in together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	home life

**Author's Note:**

> i posted this [on tumblr](http://stevesamtrash.tumblr.com/post/145284242847) originally but my blog is terribly formatted so here's the ao3 version. also: LOOK MA, I'M ON AO3! (ps: title is from a john mayer song, Surprise Surprise)

Sam and Steve move in together. They’d been talking about it for months, between missions, after meetings, in bars once they’d finished their work for their new defense organization. It’s not like it was hard to predict–they’d moved in sync from day one and practically started finishing each other’s sentences; it’s no wonder they feel most at home with each other. The move itself, into a nice-sized apartment, isn’t as smooth. The truck with their things gets lost somewhere outside Virginia, lord knows how the man got there, and the lights and heating haven’t been turned on.

“It’s a pretty new place?” Steve tries to justify, but Sam rolls his eyes, phones the people downstairs, and tries to get in contact with someone who can  _fix their stuff_. One of the tenants from downstairs explains to him that “the landlord’s out right now, but he’ll fix it when he gets back.” The woman on the other end of the phone fails to mention a time that’ll actually  _happen_ , so for the foreseeable future, the two of them are stuck in a dark, cold, empty room. Sam’s arms are crossed so tightly that Steve can see his muscles bulging, even in the dim lighting. He moves forward a little, rests a hand on Sam’s shoulder to comfort him. He visibly relaxes under his friend’s touch, closes his eyes, hangs his head–it’s only 8pm, but Sam looks like he’s ready to sleep the night away. Steve doesn’t  _need_ to imagine how that feels.

“Guess we’re stuck here,” he says, voice distant. Steve squeezes his shoulder a little before dropping it.

“Hey, it could be worse–there could be hydra agents bursting through our windows.” As the words leave Steve’s lips, Sam’s eyes widen. He practically flies forward to clamp a hand over Steve’s mouth.

“ _Dude._  You don’t know if someone’s got us bugged. Don’t jinx us on day one,  _please_.”

“Someone’s paranoid,” Steve teases, lips moving beneath Sam’s hand. Sam rolls his eyes before letting him go. Steve continues. “Besides, we’ve been off their trail for weeks. If they were interested in nabbing us, they’d’ve probably chased us while we were still actively sticking our noses in their business.” Sam wrinkles his nose. “What?”

“I hate it when you’re right.” At that, Steve bursts into laughter. Sam grins openly at the sound, and soon the two of them are doubled over, giggling about nothing at all. That warmth creeps into their bones slowly, and only when Sam looks back up at Steve does he see the way his friend’s face his flushed pink with joy. They’re closer than they had been a few moments ago, though not uncomfortably so–there’s about a foot between them, close enough that Sam can reach an arm out and flatten his hand against Steve’s chest with no straining. But Steve’s still looking at him, still beaming, and Sam’s breath is all caught up in his throat. He’s seen this look a few times, and been the recipient of it once, and it’s–it’s dangerous.

So Sam reaches into his pocket, grabs his phone, and starts playing music. It’s to ease them into their new surroundings, of course–nothing to do with the fact that Sam’s not sure what would’ve happened if they’d stayed still for a few moments longer. He shrugs off his sweatshirt and steps out of his shoes. Steve raises an eyebrow.

“Hey, you gonna relax and stay awhile? Or are you just gonna stand there and wait for the lights to come on?” Sam jokes, grinning a little at the exaggerated reluctance Steve shows. He follows suit, taking his sneakers off, peeling away his windbreaker and sweater and tossing them into an empty corner. This time, Sam is the one to raise his eyebrows.

“Too relaxed?”

“You’re too much, cap,” Sam drawls. The music he’d started playing gets softer as, outside, it starts to rain. It’s heavy and relaxing–Sam wishes he had a blanket to curl up in. Steve starts to sway side to side, moving to a slower rhythm than the song but matching the rain, and Sam thinks that having this is pretty okay, too.

“Dance with me, Sam.” His voice breaks through Sam’s reverie, and he blinks a few times, as if he’d misheard. “c’mon. Dance.” Steve beckons to him, and nope, he hadn’t misheard that one. Sam pads over in his socks, but doesn’t take Steve’s outstretched hand.

“Didn’t take you for a slow dancer,” he says, as if that’ll calm the sudden erratic beating of his heart. Steve smiles, nice and slow and smooth, and Sam will be damned if he lets this man shut him down completely. He shrugs.

“You know, this song kinda reminds me of one that used to be on the radio. Y’know, long ago.” He looks down, that smile softening into something else, something reminiscent. “our neighbors, they lived in close quarters with us. We spent a lotta time together. And sometimes, when our apartment was like this, and it was all cold, we’d turn on the radio and dance.” Steve takes a step towards Sam, who can’t take his eyes off this living legend, this amazing man, his best friend. “the girl, she had a huge crush on me, and so she taught me to dance as an excuse to get close. We’d spend rainy nights like this.”

Wordlessly, fulfilling the unspoken request, Sam rests his hand in Steve’s. Steve looks up at him, then, a gleam in his eye. (There’s that breathlessness again.) “You’re gonna have to teach me how to dance, old man,” Sam says, trying to keep his cool. “My momma taught me how to move my hips, not my feet.” Steve chuckles, and suddenly Sam realizes just how close their faces are, just how pressed together their bodies could be.

“Just follow my lead.” Steve’s voice is low. Sam tries not to shiver at the sound.

“’s what I’m good at,” Sam hums in reply. One, two, three–it’s a waltz of some kind, but he doesn’t really know, or care for that matter. Steve’s hand is soft in his, despite the calloused nature of their lives, and his body radiates warmth that Sam just wants to eat up. The song changes, but the two of them don’t really notice. Steve has started humming in Sam’s ear, keeping the pace, and Sam finds himself leaning forward, towards that warmth, that goodness that his partner emanates. It’s intoxicating–Sam’s not sure when these…these  _feelings_  for Steve had developed. (Or, well, he’s playing denial–he knows that roadtrip changed both of them, bound them for life, made them inseparable.) But he’s drawn closer,  _closer_ , until he feels like his breath is frozen in his lungs and he’s about to take a step back when Steve closes the gap between them.

The kiss is soft, gentle, tentative–it’s so very Steve, cautious as ever. Sam’s not sure if he kisses back in time to let Steve know he’s very much interested in continuing, but when Steve pulls away, his face is red and his eyes are half-lidded, looking at Sam in a daze. The intimacy of this, a single kiss in the dark, sends chills up Sam’s spine. He realizes, belatedly, that he’s speechless.

“Sorry. Just wanted to try something.” Steve sounds sheepish when he speaks. Sam’s heart lodges in his throat. They stare at each other for a long moment, searching each other in the dark, and just as Sam starts to lean in for another kiss, the lights flicker on above them. Steve starts, takes an involuntary step back, and Sam chooses that moment to step back and find some breathing room. The space around him feels odd without Steve’s presence, even though he’s only a few footsteps away. Sam shakes his head a little, comedically, and then gives Steve a reassuring grin, one that’s barely hiding his desire to crash into him again.

“Uh, thanks for the dance.” He doesn’t say anything else, just walks into one of the other rooms while Steve lingers in the empty hallway, face dazed. After a few minutes of silence, Sam calls out once more before calling it a night. “Yo, I’m calling dibs on this room once our stuff gets here.”


End file.
